You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us
by Nanaki BH
Summary: The average day off for Reno and Rude becomes quite the fiasco... [Some mild shounen ai at the end for my loyal RenoxRufus readers.]


Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, the Turks, or any associated materials. The song "You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us in Prison" belongs to My Chemical Romance; title has been shortened for convenient purposes only.

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us  
By: Nanaki BH  
_With special thanks to Tom._

"Shut up."

"Well, I thought my jokes were funny, Rude."

"They're only funny when we have a reason to be bored."

Reno leaned back against the lounge room wall and slid down. He sat there quietly tapping his Electro-mag rod on the floor. "I guess you're right." They were off today and as things were looking, for the rest of the month as well. There was just nothing to do. There was absolutely no work to be done, which unfortunately also meant no money to be had for the poor pair. Like always in times of extreme boredom, Reno resorted to telling jokes. Rude was right though; those jokes were so bad that they were only good when there was nothing else to do. Right now they weren't trapped on a dusty road or stuck in a boardroom. They could be out _somewhere_ doing _something_ worth their time.

"So, smartass, give me a suggestion. Think up something brilliant yourself. You always ask me for the ideas anyway." He ceased his incessant tapping to cross his arms bitterly over his chest. It was too bad he didn't look threatening at all to the bigger Turk. But hey, he thought, it's worth trying at least.

Rude somehow managed to deliver a glare from behind his shades. "Your brilliant ideas always involve alcohol somehow and then it goes from brilliantly _bad_ to worse."

"Fine then, whatever," Reno scoffed. He grabbed his rod again and pushed himself up from the floor. "I have some shopping to do. You go do whatever it is you do in your free time without me." He looked up to make sure he'd gotten the reaction he wanted. One, two, three, and bang! Rude gritted his teeth and turned away. He knew he was right. Honestly, who could have any kind of fun without Reno? Rude, humiliated, realized that pathetic truth.

"Listen," Rude muttered through his locked jaw. "If you wanted to do something, we should go now because it's getting late."

Reno grinned roguishly. He gave Rude a pat on the shoulder and headed for the door. "We should hit the grocery store first if I'm going to finish my shopping, right? How 'bout it?"

He received a rather large groan. "Reno, it's nine forty-one. The grocery stores are only open for another twenty minutes. Even if there_ was_ one nearby, we still wouldn't get there in time."

"Oh… Goddamn."

"Yeah."

"Well is there a place open this late?"

Rude knew then that things were going to get dirty… and weird… but that wasn't necessarily _bad_ when talking about Reno. They've done some pretty bad things before, so what kind of harm could possibly come from going _shopping?_ Rude didn't find any trouble immediately coming up with worst-came-scenarios in his head. They came on their own one after another. He decided nothing could ever top the fiasco at last year's Christmas party, so he let his worries slide… but only for the moment. He was a man who always kept his reserves. With a sigh, he finally replied. "There are convenience stores all over lower Midgar. Some are better than others."

"I know that," Reno laughed. "Most stuff under the plate's crap to start with. Well, Rude," he said, turning to him from the door. "I believe I'm ready." He checked his pocket for his car keys. Check. Was his hair still standing up? Check. Were his shoes tied? …Dammit. "Okay, hang on."

His partner shook his head. "You're just full of idiosyncrasies, aren't you?" That was a given.

"Full of _what?_"

Rude growled, refusing to give into the urge to slap his forehead. "It's a word, Reno. It's not my fault you've been undereducated."

Reno stuck out his tongue. "Not my fault either, you know." With his sneakers neatly tied, Reno stood up confidently again. "Now we're leaving," he said, holding his keys out to Rude.

"What, I'm driving?"

He gave him the most deadpan expression. "Hell, I don't know where we're going."

Wordlessly, Rude took the keys and left the room, Reno loyally trailing behind him.

The parking lot, the drive – neither were anything especially entertaining. At some point during the drive Reno managed to get a hold of the radio. Radio station ninety-one-point-one soon became affectionately known as "ninety-awesome-point-awesome"; as it played some of the most bizarre music either had ever heard… which of course meant they immediately appreciated it. The areas they passed through may not have been as thrilled. Reno knew lower Midgar well because he once called it home. The polite term for the area was "ghetto". Reno could have easily come up with _better_ names. With their crap music playing full blast in his car (manufactured by Shinra, of course) they made heads turn quick and received quite a few looks; more like _angry glares_.

"We're here," Rude said suddenly when they stopped at a light.

Reno whipped his head around in every direction. "What? Where's here?" From the light, Rude took a right and parked behind the building at the corner. He stepped out without a word. "_Rude!_" Reno whined.

"I told you already," he said. "We're _here._"

Reno practically fell over himself getting out of the car. Rude turned to regard him silently. "Sorry," Reno tried to explain, "I don't usually ride shotgun, you know?" He rubbed the back of his head, laughing nervously. His laughs were soon to fade as he noticed Rude's disinterested stare. He flailed a playful hand at him and ran past him to the stop sign at the corner. There, he stopped to consider his surroundings. "Hey, Rude," he said quietly. "We'd better make this fast. I'm not armed… it's in the car."

His partner chuckled hoarsely, patting him on the shoulder. "What, scared you'll get mugged or something?"

It was no laughing matter. Reno _was_ serious and he _was_ worried he'd get mugged. Before, when he lived in the slums, he was just as likely to get robbed as anybody else. Now that he was a Turk, those odds doubled. "I'm not kidding. We're going to get our asses beat if we stay out here too long. Don't look anybody in the eye for too long. They'll get suspicious." With that, he turned sharply on his heel and walked past Rude to enter the store.

Rude laughed softly to himself. "Yeah… you don't gotta worry about that. I'm wearing shades, remember?" Quietly clicking his tongue, he folded his arms over his chest and followed him in. Upon entering, he had to suppress another laugh. The place was a horrible mess. What should he have expected though? The slums were pitiful. They couldn't even afford to clean. If the shop owner was getting any money, it would all be going toward food or supplies.

"Reno," he said.

"Yeah, Rude," Reno called from an isle.

He groaned inwardly. "Do you even know what you're looking for?"

Reno emerged proudly from the isle with an armload of ramen. "Of course I do! It's my… dietary staple, I guess you could say. It's up there with curry."

"That almost sounded intelligent. Good job." He lifted his shades for a moment to glance around. The strangest expression crossed his visage and Reno knew immediately that he should be worried. That look was familiar.

"What is it?" he asked. He realized what that look meant. He'd seen something – rather, _someone_.

He jerked a thumb in the direction of the cash register. Behind the counter sat the cashier. He looked about ready to faint or something. The guy paying looked pretty familiar. Reno stood and watched for a little while and realized what was going on. The guy wasn't paying; that was the problem.

"You recognize him, don't you?" Rude asked.

Reno's heart sunk and his eyes widened. His first day off from work and already he'd spotted a guy they failed to catch _months_ ago. "I didn't think the guy was still alive." He remembered the situation quite well. This guy was your typical street bum freeloader with a twist; a dangerous twist. Killing was a game left to the Turks, nobody was about to mess with their game of life. This guy had been causing all sorts of problems down in the slums and it was their job to get him. They pursued him for the longest time, but somehow the little rat was quick enough to escape each time. Right now, he was staring the cashier down, probably just trying to get away without paying. "So what do you expect _me_ to do about it? You know we don't work when we're off duty."

"We have nothing better to do. Look at it that way then." Rude tapped his foot in ill-patience.

Sighing in exasperation, Reno dropped his ramen, effectively getting the attention of their guy. "Fine. Have it your way." The crook wasn't a looker in the least. He was short, ugly, and had the nastiest scent on him that Reno could smell from his place across the room. He was young though, and still seemed to be potentially good-looking if he tried. Cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, Reno shouted to him. "Hey, man, you better run. I'm chasing you, okay?" He turned to Rude. "You stay here. I've got 'im this time."

And they were off. The young thug grabbed his cola from the counter and took off like nobody either Turk had ever seen. The cashier angrily called after him, demanding that he pay, but his words were lost. The thief made a mad dash for the door. Rude watched, surprised that he managed to open the door without smacking right into it first. Reno darted past, making it through the door before it closed.

The thief was already far ahead of him. Try as he might, he just couldn't catch up. For blocks and blocks they ran, the Turk growing more exhausted with every step. Reno, finally recognizing the area, sped up and swerved into an alley. "I've gotcha now," he muttered to himself. There, in the middle of the alley, he stopped, bending over with his hands on his knees. "God, I haven't got exercise like this in a while," he panted. "Wait," he thought out loud, "I know where I'm at… he probably thinks he lost me." He could do one of two things. For one, the quick bandit could have just kept going, scared for his life. That's one idea, and in that case, Reno could just continue through the alley and meet him at the next corner in a few minutes. _Or_ he could assume that Reno just got lost and would come back the same way in three… two… one…

The alley's entrance was silent; not one person walked by. "Okay," Reno said to himself, "maybe my timing's off a little." Carefully, he made his way back to the sidewalk… and the thief slammed right into him. Dazed, his stumbled about shouting obscenities. He flung out an arm, and to his astonishment, caught hold of a wrist. Reno grinned, finally believing he was triumphant.

The young bandit grimaced and, thinking quickly, threw his extra large cola in the Turk's face. "Oh _goddamn!_" Reno cried hopelessly, blinded by the stinging liquid. It didn't help that a few ice cubes had fallen down his shirt. With his focus lost, he picked a direction and ran. After running in one direction for a bit, he soon realized that he was going the wrong way. "Like this could get any worse!" he cried.

"Hey, Reno," a familiar voice called.

"Rude! Thank God!" Reno called appreciatively.

Rude pulled the car up to the curb, leaning out the window. "Buddy, you're going the wrong way. Get in." He patted the passenger seat next to him.

His partner grinned, thinking of how bad they would trap their culprit. He hopped off the curb and practically jumped over the hood of the car to reach his side. "Let's ride, Rude!"

The drive wasn't very far; just up one of the many shady run-down streets lined with shops that had gone out of business. They saw their man enter a pretty neglected eatery nearby so Rude pulled up close to the curb and let Reno step out. He nodded curtly at him and didn't even bother to close his door.

He touched the doorknob outside and turned around to look at Rude for reassurance. His buddy just shrugged. For some reason, Reno had a bad feeling about opening the door. There was something in the back of his mind that was there the whole time but spoke louder then. The whole area made him feel out of place and uneasy. The door even had a few bullet holes in it. Deciding it was a smart idea, Reno bent to look through one of them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rude shouted from the car. "Just get in there."

Swallowing his fear and gathering up his courage, he turned the door knob and stepped into the building without a second thought. The door closed behind him with a startling slam and Reno jumped, gritting his teeth, expecting the worst. He looked around. Everything seemed perfectly normal. Was this even the right building, he wondered? The restaurant was dimly lit with candles on the tables. Some flower decorations were here and there to bring a different kind of light to the room. Next to him, behind the counter, a woman (who appeared to be in her mid-forties) cleared her throat to get his attention. "Sir, do you have a reservation?"

Reno frowned, wearily running a hand through his hair. "No… but I'm here to see someone," he said.

"What party are you with?" she asked. Just his luck; who would have thought this place would be so _exclusive?_

"I'm not with a _party_. I'm just here to see somebody," he said exasperatedly, still attempting to catch his breath from all the exertion.

She glowered at him, lowering her readers. "Maybe you should take this up with Buddy." The woman sat back comfortably in her chair, opening up her magazine. It didn't look like she wanted to pursue the subject anymore.

"Hey, wait," Reno said. "Who's Buddy?" He had to assume it was their manager. Yeah, he'd tell their manager. He might have already run into him. After all, if a criminal ran into your place, you'd want to know, right? But how'd he get past this woman…?

She sighed in annoyance, sitting up and slamming her magazine on the counter. "He's in the back, okay? You go around the corner back there and you'll see a door. It goes outside. I'm surprised you don't know where to find him."

Reno stood there, warily eyeing the lady. Why would she be so surprised? He shook his head, cursing his karma. How had a perfectly good, _normal_ day off turned into such a wild goose chase? Groaning, he decided not to think about it anymore. He was just here to grab the guy and get out. That's all. Not hard.

So he continued on to the back, passing curiously empty tables as he went. He stopped somewhere between point A and point B to question if the restaurant even _served_ food. He decided that if they _did_ then it probably wasn't approved by the department of health. He let it slide and kept going. There, at the back as promised, was a door leading outside. There were no windows on the door but he could feel air moving past his feet.

He opened the door and stepped outside. It was kind of… _cute_ out there. It was like a little garden in between the alleyways. Except… something was wrong and he could feel it pressing at his temples. Standing dead still, he shifted his gaze from one side to the other. He closed his eyes, whimpering. "Why is this day so bad?" Two guys stood on either side of him holding what seemed to be loaded pistols to his head.

He popped open an eye and watched a man stand up from the table in the center of the small garden. He walked to him slowly. Actually, it was more of a lumbering grace; like a lion – a big, frightening lion. The man was kind of fat, had little hair, but managed to have a rather well kept mustache. His appearance easily reminded Reno of Rufus's father. "You're Buddy, huh?" said Reno, trying his best to sound calm and collected.

"Yeah, and that," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, "is my brother." Behind him sat the young thief they'd been chasing, head hung and ashamed. "What's your problem with him, huh?" He asked. The two men on either side of Reno pressed their guns firmer to his head, expecting an answer. "Hey, guys," Buddy said to them, "this Turk's a guest of ours. Be a little more respectful, will you?"

With that, the two men lowered their weapons and retreated to the table where they sat beside Buddy's brother. Reno shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering how he could dig himself out of the pretty deep grave he'd put himself in. "You know you're brother's wanted, right?" he asked.

"My brother?" Buddy laughed. "He's wanted for something? I didn't think the kid could hurt a fly! Well… I'm sure he's a sneaky thief but–"

Reno interrupted before he could continue, glaring dangerously at him. "He's wanted for murder, you know that don't you?"

Buddy sighed, rolling his eyes tiredly. "Fine. Boys, I don't have my gun on me. Would one of you like to do the honors?"

Reno's breath caught in his throat. He backed up against the door, shaking his head. "Hey, it's fine! I'll let the kid off!" One of the guys had already stood up from the table and was getting closer. At a time like this he really wished he had a weapon. It was too bad he didn't think of grabbing his Electro-mag rod from the car. Behind him, with his palms on the door, he felt the doorknob move. Slowly, he edged away from the door. Just in time, Rude walked in, gun in hand.

"Why didn't you tell me you kept this in your glove box?" He easily put a bullet through the guy's head and he went down with a sickening thud. Quickly, the other thug stood, brandishing his weapon threateningly at Rude. Rude, being the smarter man, aimed his next shot at the guy's gun, effectively knocking it from his grip. The thug waved his hand around in a pathetic display of pain. "Give it up; you're outnumbered."

Buddy gave a disgusting kind of egotistical laugh. "Outnumbered? What are you; an idiot? There's three of us now and only two of you!"

"That's where you're wrong," Reno said, finally comfortable enough to speak casually. "Seeing as how you and your brother only have half a brain, and that guy doesn't even think for himself, that means you're outnumbered two to one." He stood proudly, arms folded across his chest with a sloppy grin on his face.

"Mission accomplished, Reno."

Reno nodded. "Mission accomplished, Rude."

_Later that evening_

"I can't say it enough, Mr. President; you really need to get out and relax." Reno bent forward in his seat and lazily rested his head on Rufus's desk. "I mean, do it for me, at least. After all, I have to do all the hard work."

Rufus leaned forward as well and placed his elbows comfortably on the desk. "The Yakuza aren't _that_ bad, Reno." He amiably brushed a hand through Reno's red hair and placed his hand at the back of his neck to play with his ponytail. "Besides, there's this one meeting–"

The Turk groaned, closing his eyes. "But I almost got a head full of bullets! Don't you even care anymore?" He was right. For the two of them, quality time had been hard to come by recently. Time just seemed to be working against them lately.

Rufus frowned. "But what do you expect me to do?"

"Do you know what I'm wearing under this?" Reno asked suggestively.

"No… Do I want to?" Rufus asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Yes you do," he said, sitting back in his chair. "I'm wearing swimming trunks under this. You know why?"

The young president laughed softly. He had a very delicate beautiful laugh, at that. "No, Reno. Why?"

"Because," he drawled. "You. Me. Costa del Sol. How 'bout it?"

Rufus sat back, chewing thoughtfully on his lip. There had to be some kind of catch. Reno never did anything without a twist. "Rude's going too isn't he?"

Reno looked at him oddly. "Why would _he_ come with me? He wants to get as far away from me for this break as he possibly can. 'I'm trouble,' he said." He blew him a rather smug kiss. "What, one Turk isn't enough for you?"

"No, I'm quite fine with you alone, thank you." He sighed impatiently. "I _really_ don't want to do anything else today… When do we leave?" he asked.

Reno looked at his watch, tapping his chin. "About now looks good. Don't bother bringing anything with you. Let's just go like this." Rufus smiled. "But one suggestion – bring a gun."

Author's Note: It's finally over! What a wonderful fiasco, huh? I hope you liked it; it kind of started as a suggestion from my friend Tom; hence the "special thanks". Tell me what you think! It's not often I write something that's not entirely shounen-ai.


End file.
